Can you imagine that love?
by DelenaFairytale
Summary: White lights, too dazzling, swirling over my head, almost incorporeal. And then the voices. They were everywhere. Too powerful, insistent, pressing, crushing it on my body, penetrated into the ears and I invaded the mind. I couldn't breathe, they wouldn't stop for a moment and continued, continued, resisted, and I killed between tears and blood. [AV]
1. Prologue

**Hi there!**

**This is the first time I publish a story on this site, even tho I already published it on an Italian site more than one year ago.**

**Next chapter will start with a description of the ending scene of 2x22 for plot reasons, even tho the story won't follow the tv show in the slightest. Of course I can't tell you why I will begin with that scene but there's a good reason. You will find out in a few chapters :)**

**I hope you will like it and you'll tell me what you think.**

**xo xo**

**Ele**

* * *

_**Can you imagine that love?**_

_**Prologue**_

Could it really end like that, after just a few moments of happiness?  
But someone was already trying to undermine their happiness, using that same joy as a weapon.  
The cold, white light of the flashlight lit up the damp walls of the cave.  
The squat, gray stone was engraved with strange symbols and names that belonged to an ancient and mysterious era.  
The era of the Vikings, the first settlers of Mystic Falls.  
The era of which he was part, little more than a millennium before.  
And there it was, the confirmation that his decision to let go of Stefan to focus on a bigger, most important project hasn't been wrong or reckless.  
A prophecy to decipher.  
_A curse to break_.  
Stefan would have been almost useless, given the time that would have required him to get the Ripper back.  
He didn't want to force him with the craving. No. He wanted his friend to come back of his own accord to the old habits of the good times they spent together in Chicago.  
But there was no time.  
It was right to focus on the baby.  
He immediately sensed that, in one way or another, that new life which would see the light in a few months would come in handy.  
And now he had confirmation.  
A confirmation was strengthened hand in hand that his icy celestial irises ran on drawings and letters which were so familiar to him.  
The child had to die.  
And he had to make the sacrifice himself.  
Nineteen months. That was the time that was given to him.  
And, if he hadn't been successful, his life would be in danger.  
The risk was really big this time.  
If only they had come to the attention of the weapon.  
If only they had discovered that the baby would make it more powerful and also the way it would.  
Then he would have been defeated.  
And he could not let that happen.  
No. He would always be one step ahead of them.  
He would have killed the kid and would have prevented them to intervene during the ritual.  
He needed the hybrids. Servants who were ready to fight and die, if need be.  
He wished, just for a moment, he hadn't given up on Stefan.  
He would have tracked down packs of werewolves scattered across the United States more easily and would have enjoyed it even more, with his old drinking buddy.  
But he had no time to waste with him now.  
He would have created his hybrids on his own.  
He had discovered a few days before, thanks to its sorcerer, that the doppelganger was still alive, even before meeting her, in that remote and barren clearing at the edge of Milwaukee. He did not know if this factor had hindered the creation of its hybrids or not, but in one way or another he would find a solution.  
He needed Elena alive for obvious reasons in that moment.  
He made some experiments around the country and, in the case had not been successful, he would have contacted Gloria and she would help him.  
Yes, He had to put the plan into action flawlessly.  
No mistakes this time or he would lose his life.

* * *

The large room, lit only by a few soft ray of light from the street lamps of the tree of the board.  
The girl was curled up under the light and soft white cotton sheets. Her hazel, warm eyes were wide open, staring at the space in front of her.  
Although it was summer and she felt the heat from the boy lying behind her on her skin, an annoying cold was making her shiver.  
It wasn't a normal cold, but one that came from within, _from the heart_, and even freezes the soul.  
The last two days were the worst and most shocking of her entire existence. Her world had completely changed, radically, _too_ radically, for a girl who was only seventeen. She was terrified, confused, tired and her mind was unable to formulate a thought that could be considered even remotely normal.  
The only thing she needed was _him_ . She only knew that and could only think of that.  
She didn't expect that things would be easy for them, and that the news that she had just given to the boy who was, or better still supposed to be her boyfriend, was greeted with unbridled enthusiasm. However, she hoped to receive at least a minimum of support.  
The support she needed, now more than ever.  
She wanted to be curled up in his strong arms, wrapped in his scent and his warmth. She hoped to receive words of comfort. She hoped to have his kisses and caresses.  
_She hoped that they could deal with this obstacle.  
_Because they were Damon and Elena, quite simply.  
And they faced the worst problems _together_ and, at the cost of fight with their nails and teeth, _they always survived_, no matter how hard it might be.  
But she hadn't received more than words and gestures full of malice and indifference.  
« We should talk about it. » she whispered with difficulty, trying to fight back the node filled with tears that occludes her throat, as she turned to him only to find herself in front of his muscular and wide back.  
And she was almost happy.  
She didn't have the strength to meet his face and his cold, disdainful eyes without being overwhelmed by panic and pain.  
_Without collapse.  
_« There's nothing to talk about. »  
« What do you mean? Of course there is to talk about. And we have to talk about it. »  
He spun around on her side and she instinctively curled up even more between the sheets.  
« And what if I don't want to talk about it? Have you thought about it? Or do you think only about yourself? Huh? What about me? Do you ever think about me? » an irritated snort escaped from his lips. « Now I don't want to dwell in other chitchat, so ... I'd rather sleep. Thank you. Good night. » he hissed coldly, before giving his back her back.  
« I need you. We should have to go through this together. Why are you acting as if you don't care? »  
« Because_I don't care_. » he replied, without a moment of hesitation. « I'm not that kind of man and never will be. You've always known. You shouldn't have choose to be with me, if you expect me to accept this mess. »  
«You can't be serious. »  
« I'm damn serious. » she saw his body stiffen a bit in the brief pause he took before continuing. « Go back to him. _He_ is the kind of man who is ready for this sort of thing and would not hesitate to lend a hand. »  
The sharp and peremptory answer hit her like a punch in the stomach, cutting off her breath.  
Her heart, which already weighed a ton, broke up into billions of tiny fragments, leaving an empty feeling at the exact center of her chest.  
How could he talk like that, after all they've been through to get together?  
_After what they have fought and suffered for their love?_


	2. Chapter 1

**And after more than one month I'm back! **

**As I said in the Prologue, this chapter is connected to the show and it starts with the ending DE scenes in 2x22 FOR PLOT REASONS. I chose to describe that scene because something really important happened in it, something that will affect the characters and get them into some troubles. As I already told you the fic HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE SLs OF THE SHOW IN SEASON 3 AND 4, as you read in the Prologue. So I hope you will keep reading it and you'll like it.**

**I hope you'll like the chapter and you'll let me know what you think**

**xo xo **

* * *

**CHAPTER 1: THE START OF EVERYTHING**

Damon's eyes widened, a mixture of confusion and guilt.

« Elena. » He said her name in a barely audible whisper.

He seemed disoriented. Scared. Upset. _Fragile_, like she had never seen him before.

Her heart squeezed in a vise full of tenderness and compassion, as she saw him like that.

Damon, the vampire who was apparently so brutal and cold, devoid of any scruples and respect for human life, now looked like a frightened child and in need of care. It was really bad. Maybe he was really going to die, as Stefan told her earlier and she couldn't stand the idea of loosing him.

At the beginning she could hardly endure his presence, but he slowly showed her the best parts of him. Parts the he showed only around her and sometimes around Stefan, but rarely.

He had proven her to be able to have feelings and emotions. He had proven to her that he cared about her, Stefan, Rose and also about Rick. Although his list of people to be protected was very narrow, it was a big step forward.

Under his cold and impassive shell of sarcasm and cynicism, hid only a man wounded too many times by people he loved. A man who refused, almost always, to show his emotions for fear of suffering. But with Elena he had done it, over and over again. Even that morning, when he came to ask her for forgiveness for forcing her to drink his blood.

It was when he showed her this sweet and human side of him that she realized how much she liked it and how much it hit her.

No matter if she wanted to admit it or not, Damon got under the skin and now, as much as she wanted to, she couldn't shake him.

An indistinct murmur, after a while, pulled her sharply out of her reflections.

The panic began running through her veins, burning like acid in the stomach and grasping it in an oppressive grip of terror.

She had to help him, even if she didn't know how.

Damon slumped to the ground, beating violently his knees on the red dust.

« Damon. » Elena whispered, kneeling down beside him.

« Damon. » she repeated, passing an arm around his shoulders and holding him thigh. He rested his forehead, which was hot and sweating, on her shoulder.

His body was way too warm and it shook with convulsive tremors.

He mumbled indistinct words, in which she was able to hear her name several times.

« Damon, come on. I'll take you out of here. » she whispered softly, tenderly stroking the soft strands of hair behind his head.

He let her help him to his feet and he let out another jolt and a strangled groan, followed by her name.

Somehow, she managed to drag him to her car. She opened the door and made him sit in the passenger seat.

Before turning on the car, she looked at him one last time. In the cool shade of the cabin, she could see the grimace of pain he had painted on his face. His breathing became, moment by moment, more and more panting, more broken.

Every moan, every gasp, every muffled scream, were for her like a stake through the heart.

She didn't want to lose him. _She couldn't._

No. Not after her Mom, her Dad and Aunt Jenna.

She couldn't stand the thought of loosing anyone else. Her heart wouldn't bear all the indescribable pain that would have caused the loss.

Damon's friendship, support and protection were too important to her. And even his stupid jokes, which always put a smile on her face when she was sad, his caveman's manner, his eyes winking and his irritating provocations. Her life would never be the same without him.

_And you consider him just a friend? Wake up, Gilbert. When are you going to admit that he's not just a friend for you? _hissed a malignant and sarcastic voice in her head.

But she immediately ignored that unwelcome revelation. It wasn't the right moment.

And of course Damon could be something more than just a friend, but she loved Stefan. Her heart belonged to Stefan and would always be his. He had arrived at a point in her life where she needed an anchor to hold on to to fight the sea of pain that was overwhelming her. And he had always been there, with his kindness, his strength and his calm. _With his love._ Stefan was a security for her. A security that would never collapsed. And she loved him with all her heart for that too.

But deep down inside her she knew that, day after day, in that last year, her attraction for Damon had become something stronger. Something that she still couldn't understand, _or that she may didn't want_ _understand_.

And Stefan wasn't there with her to help Damon in that moment. She wished that he was with her to comfort her and tell her that everything would be just fine. But she had to take care of herself and do her best in order to help Damon, with or without Stefan. In the meantime, she could only hope and pray that Stefan would return as soon as possible with a cure and that everything would go back to normal, like a few hours before.

All of a sudden the car was filled an oppressive silence, which had the taste of pain and death.

Damon's panting breaths had ceased.

Elena turned toward him, terror and anguish were running through every fiber of her being, creeping into her heart and in her mind like poison.

Damon's eyes were closed and he remained completely still. It seemed he was dead.

Elena's heart was racing with anguish, pounding so hard it hurt.

She pulled over him and pressed a hand to his chest, the other in front of his lips. She felt his chest rise and fall slightly, the faint beat of his heart and his warm breath on her fingers. He was only asleep, thank God.

Elena sighed with relief and started driving again.

A few minutes later they arrived in front of the Salvatore boarding house. « Damon, hey. Wake up. We've arrived. » she whispered, brushing his cheek with the tip of her finger to make sure that he was awake.

He slowly opened his eyes and whispered something, but she couldn't get it.

She quickly got out of the car and made her way to the passenger door. Elena opened it then she leaned over him and grabbed him by the arms. Carefully, she helped him to his feet and he leaned into her.

Staggering under its weight, she managed to bring it up to his room, even though she never knew where she found the strength.

She made him lay on the white cotton sheets and headed for the bathroom to get a towel and wipe his forehead, which was drenched in sweat.

«Elena. »

His whisper forced her to go back in the room.

She put her hands on the bed, right next to him. « It's okay, Damon. I'm here. »

« Elena, get out of here. I could hurt you. »

She couldn't even think to leave him alone in a moment like that. She hadn't the strength. How could he only think that she could abandon him just when he needed her the most?

« No. You won't. I'll stay here until the end. I'm not leaving you. »

And, in the very moment when she uttered those words, she realized their veracity. Yes she knew that Damon, even in those conditions, would never hurt her. She _trusted _him. She trusted him blindly.

« Get out of ... »

A cry of pain, held for too long, forced him to stop in mid-sentence. Another scream, and he put a hand on his chest, just above his heart.

Elena sat on the bed and hugged him, almost by instinct, making him lay his head on her shoulder. His breathing became shorter and shorter, broken.

«Shh. It's okay. It's okay. It's okay. » she whispered stroking his arm, as if she wanted to reassure him.

But she didn't believe it herself. She could hear the faint hope in her heart die down to every of his whimper, every feeble breathing. Still, she wanted him to believe that not all was lost and, perhaps, also Elena needed to hold on to that sweet illusion.

« No. It isn't. It's not okay. » He gasped. « For all these years I blamed Stefan. No one forced me to love her. It was my choice. »

Damon continued to tremble, to breathe convulsively, as if his lungs had no more air, and she felt his body become more and more hot against hers.

The worst thing, though, was that he seemed delirious. It was unbearable for her to see him so sick. She would have given anything to make him feel better and give him a little comfort, but she couldn't do anything and she felt helpless and weak as it had never happened before.

« Shh. » she whispered, trying to calm him down.

« I made the wrong choice. » His voice cracked slightly.

He looked up at her, staring at her with such intensity that gave her goosebumps. « Tell Stefan I'm sorry, okay? »

She closed her eyes for a moment and swallowed a lump, filled with tears and anguish, that had formed in her throat.

She took a deep breath. « I will. »

« It's even more pathetic than I imagined. » he murmured, after a moment of silence.

«There's still hope. » she whispered, her voice trembling, her eyes moist even if she was trying to hold back the tears with her whole being.

« I made a lot of choices that have led me to this point. I deserve this. I deserve to die. »

No. She didn't want to hear anything like that from him.

She knew he was more good, human and compassionate of what he let people see and also, most likely, than he wanted to admit. In spite of all his faults, he didn't deserve to die. All he deserved was happiness.

She leaned her face on his, for a better view. « No. »

She lay down beside him, holding his hand in hers. « It isn't true. » she said again.

« It is, Elena. But it's okay. Because, if I had chosen differently, I wouldn't have met you. »

She stared deep into his eyes, amazed by that externalization of feelings, which was so unusual for him.

She shouldn't have feel so flattered by the fact that she was so important for a man who wasn't Stefan.

She shouldn't have feel nearly _happy _for those words. But, for a reason that she wasn't given to understand, she was.

_Maybe you are seriously starting to love him, stubborn. Admit it and that's it._ hissed again that harsh and unbearable little voice in her head.

She couldn't admit to love Damon too, or at least to begin to love him. She didn't want to hurt Stefan. She would go against all the people she loved. She would have hurt them and disappointed them. She would go against the moral that she had always been taught. Against her own principles. _She would become like Katherine._ And she couldn't let that happen. At the very least she would have felt a sense of utter disgust for herself. Moreover she would have irreparably wounded two of the people she loved most in the world.

She loved Stefan and there wouldn't be room for anyone else in her heart. Never.

Damon would always be one of her closest friends and she would always care about him in a way that she couldn't even understand, but there would never be something more between them. Not for her, at least.

The most rational part of her, even in those moments of sheer terror, could only agree.

The most instinctive and emotional part, however, said the opposite. Something inside her was screaming out loud that, little by little, she was falling in love with Damon. But she couldn't listen to it. Not now, at least. It would have drive her crazy otherwise.

A simple reflection based on so little wouldn't be enough to analyze the whole tangle of feelings that stirred inside her since she met the Salvatores. She would take the time she needed. A lot of time.

Even though in her heart she knew that sooner or later she had to face what she felt for both of them, now she hadn't the strength to do it.

She returned her attention on Damon, trying with difficulty to utter a word.

« I'm so sorry. I did so many things that have hurt you. » He murmured, his voice hoarse, trembling and almost impalpable, as was faint.

She shook her head and smiled trying, once again, to hold back the tears that threatened to slip down her cheeks at any moment. « It's okay. I forgive you. »

It amazed her how easily she had forgiven him, but she felt it was the right thing to do. Damon was on his deathbed and, in any case, no mistake could ever erase the bound between them. It was something too deep to be destroyed and it was frustrating not being able to understand what it really was.

« I know you love Stefan and it will always be him. » He whispered, his voice cracked more and more due to the pain.

She wanted to say that, right now, it was true that she loved Stefan but she couldn't really imagine it was forever. She could just think about the present and even thought her mind didn't want to admit it, in her heart she knew that they were both too important for her to ignore what she felt for Damon.

But, though she felt the need to speak, she didn't dare to utter a word. If she had admitted it out loud, what she felt for Damon would become damn real and she couldn't let that happen.

She rested her head on his shoulder, still holding his hand in hers.

« But I love you. You should have known that. » He concluded in a faint gasp.

In the moment she heard that statement her heart skipped a few beats before start pawing at a frenetic pace.

She was puzzled.

She knew or, at least, she understood that Damon was in love with her but to hear him externalize it so candidly, with that sweetness and sincerity, was something indescribable.

It was a strange and contradictory feeling.

A part of her was, for some strange reason, glad to hear it. But, on the other hand, she was terrified because she knew that if he wasn't in his deathbed, probably he would never admit what he felt for her, and that meant it was really happening. She was really going to lose him.

At that point, she couldn't hold back the tears that began to slide slowly down her cheeks any longer. « I know. »

« You should have met in 1864. You would have liked me. » He mumbled, his voice growing hoarse and faint from the pain.

And that phrase was like a bolt from the blue.

A light dispelling the darkness.

She liked Damon the way he was: sarcastic, arrogant, uncaring, sometimes cruel and cold, but also capable of sweet gestures and human enough to get to risk his own life to save her from Klaus's sacrifice. And she liked all this, including his flaws, maybe more than she wanted to admit.

She was starting to love Damon too. It was a sudden revelation, but somehow it didn't shocked or surprised her. It was as if she had always known, deep down inside, but she never wanted to admit it.

It was different, completely different from what she felt for Stefan, but that feeling was no less real or less intense. It was different because they were different. Stefan gave her things that Damon would never give her and Damon gave her things that Stefan could never give her. But now she couldn't tell Damon. She couldn't tell him that she loved him until she was one hundred percent sure of what her feelings towards the Salvatores actually meant to her, otherwise she wouldn't have done anything but hurt him, and she absolutely didn't want that to happen.

She lifted her face to look into his eyes. « I like you now. Just the way you are. »

It was a simple sentence, perhaps even simplistic to express what she felt for him, but at least it wasn't a lie.

She stared at him intently, as if she wanted to impart the image of his face in her mind, as he tried to keep his eyes open and win the huge fatigue that was causing him pain.

Her gaze lingered on his mouth for a moment. His lips were pale, pale as his face emaciated and contract from the pain, but they were still beautiful and, perhaps, it would be the last chance to feel them on hers. If she really had to tell him goodbye, she wanted to know how that kiss would feel. And she also wanted to give him a little sweetness and happiness in his last moments.

She bent over him and she put her lips against his.

The kiss was full of sweetness, innocence and purity.

He was so exhausted that he almost didn't kissed her back, but it was still a beautiful kiss for her.

She thrilled so much that, during those brief moments, her heart was pounding and her stomach was shaken by a sweet, pleasant flicker.

For a moment, the world disappeared and there was nothing but them, the taste of their mouths, the scent of their skins, the warmth of their bodies and the feel of their hands clasped together.

There wasn't the werewolf bite that was killing him.

There wasn't the suffocating fear of possibly losing him.

There wasn't her confusion about her feelings.

There wasn't even Stefan.

But that moment was short. Way too short.

After a few moments, she pulled back a little from his face and her eyes lingered on his sweet and beautiful features, which were inevitably furrowed in pain in that moment.

« Thank you. » He whispered just a few millimeters from her lips.

She gave him a little, sweet and sincere smile. « You're welcome. »

At her answer, his lips stretched in this reference of faint smile, which seemed almost amused.

« Well, actually, you should thank me. » Said a familiar voice behind her. A voice which identical to hers, but more cold, arrogant, sarcastic and sharp.

_Katherine._

Elena swung her head, surprised and scared at the same time.

Katherine was unpredictable, and with Damon in those conditions she could have hurt them and they wouldn't be able to do anything to prevent it.

Katherine was leaning with her shoulder against the door frame, in a relaxed and elegant pose. «I mean, I'm the one who brought the cure. » She continued, showing her a small glass bottle, which contained a dense ruby red liquid. It was definitely blood.

So, that was the cure? Would it work? Elena hoped so, with all her heart.

Out of curiosity, she got out of bed and stared at Katherine.

« I thought you were dead. » Hissed the vampire, with two quick strides past her, to get closer to Damon.

« I was. » Elena replied.

« You're free » Damon gasped, trying in vain to keep his eyes open.

«Yep. Finally. » She said, leaning the bottle to his lips.

« And you still came here? » Damon asked, a surprised note in his weak voice.

« I owe you. » She whispered in reply, gently stroking his cheek.

She was there. Klaus had taken her and now she was free. Elena only realized in that moment that, if everything went well, given that Stefan had gone to the Original for a cure, he would have to return with Katherine.

Why wasn't he there, then? Maybe something bad happened to him? Was he...?

No. She couldn't even think that Stefan was dead. She needed to know why he hadn't returned with Katherine.

« Where is Stefan? » Elena asked her, her voice a few octaves higher than for the anguish.

« Are you sure that you care? » Katherine replied, irreverent and sarcastic as usual.

« Where is he? » Elena asked again, annoyed by her impudence.

« He's paying for this cure. He offered himself to Klaus. I don't expect him to come back soon. »

What did she mean by saying he was paying for the cure and that he offered himself to Klaus?  
What did she mean with hers "I don't expect to come back soon"? Stefan was gone? Had he abandoned her?

No. It couldn't be.

There had to be an explanation for everything. Maybe Katherine was just lying. She was really good at it.

«What do you mean by "offered"? » Elena asked, hoping to receive an answer that would have reassured her.

But she didn't. Indeed, Katherine's words did nothing but feed her anxiety and to widen the chasm of anguish and pain that, little by little, began to grow in her heart and seemed to want to snatch a bite.

«Just that he sacrificed everything to save his brother, including you. Luckily, you have Damon to keep you company. » Katherine took a short break. «Goodbye, Elena. » She whispered finally, heading for the door.

Suddenly, when she was already on the threshold, she turned back toward Elena. « It's okay to love them both. I did it. » She murmured, throwing the bottle filled with the cure at Elena.

Elena grabbed it and turned to Damon. They stared in disbelief for very long, endless moments.

All the frustrating tension built up in her in the past, horrible and hectic days, freed itself all of a sudden. The idea of Stefan, _her_ Stefan, lost somewhere with Klaus, forced to do God only knows what atrocities was unbearable.

«Stefan. » She mumbled, in a hoarse and desperate sob.

Elena could feel her eyes so wide open it hurt, sting under the force of the cruel tears threatening, at any moment, of slipping down her cheeks.  
She wanted to cry and scream. She wanted to vent her anger at the injustice that she was experiencing on the first person or the first object that happened to be on her way. But she couldn't. She couldn't afford to be so stupid and weak. Not this time. Not with Damon standing there, still sore and groggy because of the bite.  
Elena breathed deeply, over and over again, trying to keep control of herself. But it didn't work, since Damon noticed her mood instantly.

He got up from the bed and, staggering and leaning with one hand against the wall, between a groan of pain and the next one, came closer to her.

His face was still pale, his eyes bloodshot and glossy, surrounded by purple circles. His shirt was smeared with sweat as the skin of his face.

When he was a few inches from her, he cupped her face in his hands, which were trembling visibly. « How are you feeling? » He asked, with an unexpected and unusual sweetness in his voice.

« Well. » she lied, without any hesitation.

Damon gently stroked her cheek, then went down with his thumb up to her lower lip and just barely touched it, as if he was afraid to harm her.

A small wrinkle of apprehension formed in the midst of his eyebrows, and his eyes darkened, while watching her carefully, as if he were studying every single detail of her face to snatch a question of vital importance. « Really, Elena, how are you? »

How was it possible that, even in those conditions, he could understand her with just one look? Maybe she wasn't able to deceive him, but she didn't want him to be worried for her without a reason.

« I'm fine, Damon. Really. Somehow I always survive. »

He slowly shook his head, as if that simple movement cost him effort.

She felt his hand gently move away from her face, and she saw his features contract in another grimace of pain. It was in that moment that she realized that it would have required more time than she thought for the cure to heal him.

She circled his waist with one arm to support him, and only for a brief moment, held him closer to her. Carefully, she guided him to the bed, then she arranged the pillows under his head and made him finish the bottle that contained the cure, to be more sure of its effectiveness.

Damon closed his eyes and his face relaxed, calm and serene as that of a child. It seemed he were asleep, but when she sat down beside him and gently stroked his arm, his eyelids parted again.

« We can't leave Stefan with Klaus. It could be very dangerous, Elena. I promise that I will do everything to bring him home, so everything will be fine just like before all this started and you will be happy again. »

Elena didn't answer, though she realized that that "everything will be fine just like before all this started" could refer only to his declaration of love and to the fact that sje had kissed him. She still couldn't believe she really did that. When they would rescued Stefan - because she was sure he would come back to her - how could she explain that kiss? How could she deal with what she had just admitted to feel for Damon, while she was still with his brother?

She didn't know it yet, but she had the feeling that what happened that night would have led to horrific consequences for the three of them. But she couldn't think about it right now.

She just had to think that Stefan would be back, just for her.  
And that thought dissolved, at least in part, the tension, the fatigue she was beginning to feel.

Her head was confused and empty, her heavy eyelids were struggling to stay open. She had to go home and take rest, and also Damon needed a good night of sleep, so he could heal.

« Listen, I start to get tired and you seem to be destroyed. Maybe it's better if I go home. » she muttered sleepily, getting up from the bed and sprawling her legs and her arms.

«Yes, all right. » He said, closing his eyes again, his voice hoarse and so exhausted that it was barely recognizable.

Only in that moment, Elena noticed that he was completely uncovered and still wearing his shoes. She didn't know if vampires suffered from the cold, but he was sick and he almost died just a few minutes before. She couldn't leave him like that. She took off his boots and socks and then covered him carefully with the sheets and the duvet.

Elena didn't reply to his faint and barely intelligible «Thank you. »

She simply wished him goodnight and told him that she'd come back tomorrow to make sure he was okay and to discuss what they could do to bring Stefan back.

During the few minutes on her way home, she tried to put aside her negative thoughts about Stefan and Damon and about all what had happened in the last few hours. And, strangely, she succeeded, focusing first on the road and then, arrived at her destination, on mechanical and daily actions, such as brushing her teeth, put on her pajamas and get under the covers.

But when she turned off the light and her room was barely lit by the warm and faint light of the street lamps, in total peace and seclusion, her anguish and her guilt came back to bite along with the bustle of her thoughts.

Unable to stand still and to get to sleep, she turned and rolled over between the soft blankets for a few more minutes, until she was far too sore to sleep and she decided to write in her journal. Perhaps, put pen to paper her tormented thoughts would be useful to make her calm down. She sat up, turned on the light, then she took the diary and the pen, which were laid on the night stand, and began to write.

_Dear diary, what a absurd day. Among the many impossible days that I have lived ... This is one of the most surreal I've ever met. Damon was bitten by a werewolf and he almost died. I was desperate. When I saw him so ... fragile, helpless ... It felt like hell_ _I've never been so scared in my life. I was going to lose him ... What would I do if he were dead? I do not even think about it._ _Thank God Katherine was able to find the cure ... Klaus's blood. Damon healed, but ... At what price? Stefan payed for that cure. Who knows where he is now with Klaus. I'm afraid for him, for me. I feel abandoned. _

She stopped writing for a brief moment. Put those lines in her journal had made it all the more real for her. Stefan was with Klaus and probably wouldn't come back. It would have been difficult, if not impossible, to bring him back home. If Klaus had something in mind, surely he wouldn't let Stefan go so easily.  
And, as Elena realized the harsh reality, a hot tear slid down her cheek junk and ended up leaving a small wet patch on the white page of her diary. She wiped it immediately. She couldn't be so weak. She couldn't give up like that. She couldn't abandon Stefan. She had to fight with all her strength to bring him back. Holding on to these thoughts, she began to write from where she left.

_ I feel lost without him. Damon promised me that we will save Stefan and I hope it with all my heart. I will fight with all my strength to bring him back to me, because I can't live without him. I love him. I love him so much. _The words that followed left her aghast and dismayed, because she written them almost without noticing it. _But... I'm confused. Why, while I'm writing about my love for Stefan, Damon also comes to mind? Tonight he told me he loved me and shortly after I kissed him. But why? Why, when I look in his eyes, I feel as if he could see through me, with a single, simple look? Why, when I hear his voice, my heart starts pounding and I feel butterflies in my stomach? Why do I feel so ... attracted to him, if he really is just a friend? Why, if I really love Stefan? I'm afraid I have become like Katherine because, deep down, I feel … I feel like I'm starting to love Damon too._

Too surprised and shocked at what she had just written to conclude or simply to erase her last sentences, she immediately closed the diary. It was way too late to think about her feelings right now. She turned off the light and lay down again, lulled in the arms of Morpheus.

She would think about what she felt for Stefan and Damon the next day.


End file.
